Chapter 7 - The First Morning of the Rest of Our Lives
The sunlight that filtered through the high, arched windows of the Beacon Hill mansion on Christmas morning did not look like the cold, clinical light of the previous days. Refracted through hundreds of crystal droplets on the newly decorated Fraser fir, it threw bright, dancing splinters of ruby, emerald, and gold across the polished marble floor.
Daisy was already awake, sitting cross-legged in her oversized down parka right beside the tree, carefully examining a miniature porcelain tea set that Matthew had somehow managed to procure from the midnight shelves.
Jenna stood in the doorway of the massive, professional kitchen, wrapped in an oversized cashmere cardigan that Matthew had insisted she wear after tossing her damp, cleaning-company polo into the laundry. She held a fresh mug of coffee, watching the scene unfold with a sense of surreal disbelief. Her reflection in the stainless steel refrigerator door didn't look like the exhausted, hunted cleaner she had been twenty-four hours ago. There was color in her cheeks. Her blond hair, washed and allowed to fall in soft waves around her shoulders, made her look younger—almost like the girl she used to be before the bills, the eviction notices, and the crushing weight of survival took over her life.
"You're staring," a deep, quiet voice murmured from behind her.
Jenna jumped slightly, turning around to find Matthew leaning against the doorframe. He had also shed his formal attire; he wore a soft gray merino wool sweater and dark denim jeans. Without the sharp armor of his bespoke suits, he looked less like an impenetrable corporate warlord and more like a man who was finally letting himself breathe.
"I’m just... trying to figure out if I’m still asleep in the back of a freezing bus," Jenna admitted, a self-conscious smile touching her lips. "Or if this is some elaborate hallucination brought on by lack of sleep and too much cold air."
Matthew walked over to the counter, pouring himself a cup of black coffee. His movements were unhurried, deliberate. "It’s real, Jenna. No hallucinations. Though I’ll admit, my investment portfolio is going to require some creative accounting to explain why I liquidated a short-term bond to buy a giant teddy bear at three in the morning."
Jenna let out a soft, genuine laugh—a sound that seemed to echo strangely in the high-ceilinged kitchen, as if the room itself were hearing laughter for the very first time. "Marcus Vance is going to bill you for emotional damages, you know."
"Let him," Matthew replied, his grey eyes softening as he looked over at Daisy, who was now carefully pouring imaginary tea from her porcelain pot into a tiny cup. "Marcus owes me a favor from the Boston waterfront acquisition anyway."
Matthew turned his gaze back to Jenna, the playful glint in his eyes fading into something deeper, more intense. "Have you thought about the deed? The apartment on Marlborough Street?"
Jenna’s smile faltered just a fraction, her coffee mug warming her cold palms. "Matthew... it’s too much. A five-year lease, an education fund... I’m a cleaning contractor. I scrub floors. I don't even know how to begin to pay you back for something like this."
"Stop thinking about transactions, Jenna," Matthew said gently, stepping just a little closer. The air between them suddenly felt charged, heavy with an unspoken magnetism that neither of them had anticipated. "You don't owe me a debt. What you gave me last night—what both of you gave me—was something money couldn't buy if I emptied every bank account I own. You brought a pulse into a morgue."
He reached out, his fingers brushing lightly against her wrist, sending a warm, electric shiver straight up her spine.
"Stay today," Matthew whispered, his voice low and steady. "Let’s cook a real Christmas dinner. Together. Not catered. Not scheduled. Just... normal."
May you like
Jenna looked up into his eyes, seeing the quiet plea hidden beneath his legendary confidence. The walls were gone. For the first time in a decade, Matthew Hail wasn't hiding behind his wealth, and Jenna Carter wasn't hiding behind her pride.
"Okay," Jenna whispered back, her heart racing. "We'll stay."
